Disclaimer: I do not own the boys, Lady, or DMC.
Chapter 6: The Folly of the Uninformed
Vergil hadn't moved since taking his seat in the leather armchair after his wordly war with Lady. In fact, the only major movement he had made at all was to catch the candlestick that Lady had flung at him before it collided with his head. Once Lady was gone, his thoughts had only been briefly disturbed twice. Once by the hotel's concierge, whom had practically raked him with her lust filled stare. She had then attempted to ask a few polite questions as to his welfare, which he had answered pointedly without bothering once to look at the woman. Then, again by the hotel's cleaning staff, who left as quickly as they had arrived.
For a change though, despite his lack of reaction to said interruptions, he hadn't minded them for they successfully strayed his thoughts away from his current frustrating mental fascination over a certain devil huntress. Of course though, the more his thoughts refused to find a new topic to mull over, the more frustrated he became.
Lady, his mind pondered over her name. She was a complete enigma to him. Every time he felt confident that he had figured out every facet of her personality, she would do something completely out of character – like she had done prior that day – and surprise him yet again.
He had finally come to the conclusion that this was what ultimately drew him to her… like a drug addict looking for another fix, Vergil found himself prodding and goading Lady on, waiting for that next unexpected shift in her tactics. It was complete chaos and try as he might; he couldn't understand why he enjoyed it so much. And she, well… Lady probably wasn't even aware of what she did to him. Even though he sought to deny it, there were days like today where he was made fully aware of how addictive she really was.
That chaos was like an inferno of fire that warmed his chilled blood and before he even realized it, or at times when he thought he could even fight back against it, her chaotic presence would set him a boil.
There was an explanation of course, but that particular explanation was completely ludicrous. Therefore, he continued to search for another reason; only becoming more irritated as other more credible answers eluded him.
As evening deepened into night, Vergil was so involved with these thoughts that he didn't even notice the ghost stir from her painting until she stood right in front of him. The spirit looked exactly like she did in the painting from whence she came. Knowing he could do nothing to her and she could do nothing to him, Vergil lifted his eyes to view her with a mixture of disdain and boredom. The souls of dead humans whom refused to depart this world, he decided, were even more pathetic than their lively counterparts. At least the living had no choice but to remain attached to this world and its mortal pursuits.
"Demon!" The spectre hissed after many long moments, before promptly disappearing.
Without any clear reason to move, Vergil remained motionless in the chair. However he did remain highly alert to his surroundings should the ghost decide to fling something at him.
She apparently decided not to, and, after nearly two hours of silence in which Vergil's sharp hearing only caught the laughter and voices of living humans walking through the hall beyond the door of his current room, he was bored once again. Sighing, he decided that the ghost was either so pathetic that it was afraid of him or had retained enough intelligence to realize that there was nothing she could throw at him that he wouldn't dodge or deflect. With nothing else to occupy him, his thoughts returned unbidden to Lady. Vergil wondered slightly why she hadn't returned yet, and, answering his question in the same thought, informed himself that she was undoubtedly investigating each and every lead available. Despite his ridicule on the matter, Lady was far more persistent and thorough than any of the other hunters that they worked with when it came to research. If she went in guns blazing... well that could be simply accounted to good survival instinct and not for a lack of research.
It was something, he was loathe to admit, that he admired most about her... her ability to overcome her human frailties and keep up with the best of them, all the while leaving a trail of destruction in her wake.
Vergil's blue gaze went to their luggage, which still sat on the same cart that they had found it on. It had only been mildly disturbed when he had retrieved Yamato and Lady had checked on the welfare of her own weapons. His sapphire eyes narrowed involuntarily as he thought about the clunky, despicable weapons that she used. He had never put much stock into those types of weapons, even though Lady and Dante consistently proved their worth. Come to think of it, guns did suit the raven-haired huntress far better than any sword ever could. Not to mention, Vergil continued to muse, unaware of where his thoughts were currently leading him; they did give her that unique scent... gunpowder and peaches. It was such an odd combination of scents and yet they were as uniquely beautiful as her eyes.
Sighing in complete exasperation – where the hell had those thoughts come from? - Vergil wrapped his fingers around Yamato's hilt and rose. He was in dire need of a distraction... something, anything to take his traitorous thoughts away from the human huntress.
Why? Why out of all the women that he was surrounded by did it need to be her?
Pacing in his irritation, he reflected over that carefully. Trish was simply too much like his mother to ever think of her in that regard, despite Dante's disagreement. Lucia, now she was beautiful and intelligent, enjoyed reading through old books almost as much as he did, and fought with daggers – which were far more respectable then guns. He even had the ability to work with her without breaking into an argument or fight. Lastly, but certainly not least, she had demonic blood flowing through her veins.
Unfortunately, even as he formed a mental image of the red haired, blade-welding huntress, the image shifted until black short hair replaced the red, green eyes were exchanged for dual toned, a scar that no demon or half demon could retain stretched across the bridge of the nose, and Lucia's face was completely supplanted by Lady's.
Growling in utter annoyance at himself, Vergil spun on his booted heel and decided that some fresh air was in order. Flinging the glass patio door aside, Vergil stepped out into the chill night air of Las Vegas. A soft breeze blew past him, ruffling the bottom of his coat, instantly refreshing him and bringing him back to full alertness as easily as a splash of cold water.
Sighing in contentment to finally have his thoughts clear of gun-toting, human huntresses, Vergil leaned against the rail. Placing Yamato atop it and under his crossed arms, he looked out over the artificially bright city. Vergil didn't even need to stretch his senses to feel the demonic activity occurring all over the city beneath and around him. The demons weren't even of the lowest classes. Instead, they were readily powerful; ones that would be searching for weak-minded humans willing to trade away their souls for a moment of wealth or love. Undoubtedly the demons found these types of humans by the handfuls, Vergil speculated silently.
Leaning his head down onto his arms, Vergil continued to muse over the patheticness of human kind. Humans truly had no concept of the importance of their souls. Vergil knew, along with every other demon and angel, it was the very thing that gave the humans their freedom of choice. Seeing as demons and angels only possessed bound souls, that freedom was what they coveted most. His soul was the only human quality about himself that he would fight bitterly to keep, and it was the only thing that had kept him from being a complete slave to Mundus. Something, that regardless of his thirst for the demonic powers of his father, he refused to become. As for the rest of his humanity... well... that was a different matter altogether.
Rolling his head to the side in boredom, Vergil listened to the bustling city below, his fingers idly caressing the engraved phoenix on Yamato's sheath. It seemed fitting he supposed, for the mythical creature to have replaced the dragons on his old sheath, for both himself and the sword. The phoenix immediately brought to mind Lady once more, as she was the cause for it. Returning to his previous train of thought, he mused that Lady was one of the few humans whom actually knew the importance of souls and free will; it was part of why she fought as hard as she did.
Vergil instantly lifted his head in annoyance at the stray thoughts and images they produced, and once more attempted to beat them back into a far corner of his mind. After a few moments he relaxed once more, satisfied for the time being that his treacherous mind was brought back under control.
Vergil hated the lack of control he had over his mind as of late; stray thoughts plagued him at every hour of the day and night. He had long prided himself on having perfect control over his mind and body, it was the equivalent of a finely honed machine... or so he had thought. Lady, without having actually done anything, had successfully upset his perfectly working machine so that now his silly brain would go charging off at the mere mention, or, in this case, thought of her name.
Growling unhappily, Vergil straightened himself and looked up at the sky, past the glow of the city's lights. He noted that dawn would be arriving in short order as it began to considerably lighten.
Putting Lady and all the rest of his bothersome thoughts to rest, Vergil smirked and headed back into the hotel room. It was nearly 'Showtime'. Stopping near the railing where he had challenged Lady the day before, Vergil's frosty gaze swept around the room in anticipation. Nothing as of yet, had moved, but he could feel the spectre's watchful gaze. "Well, my dear, dawn is fast approaching. If you intend to do something, this would be your last chance," he goaded icily, his thumb idly caressing Yamato's hilt as he waited.
An audible hiss resounded throughout the room, but nothing else occurred, and Vergil was forced to wait impatiently for the sun.
When the morning sun did rise, its rays burst into the room, surrounding Vergil in a halo of light. With the entrance of the sunlight, Vergil watched as the vase that Lady had left sitting on the old dining table rose into the air until the sun's light shone directly on the object.
"Die, demon!" The spirit snarled as she became visible, hovering alongside the vase.
Vergil said nothing in retaliation; the symbols on the vase itself caught the sun's light and immediately burst into their own golden light, becoming miniature suns themselves. Shielding his eyes against it, Vergil heard his opponent before he was able to see it as a deep throated growl meet his ears.
The extreme light dissipated and Vergil was able to take his first look at the creature that had been the cause for the recent deaths within the room. It was unlike any demon that Vergil had ever seen before. Instead, it appeared more animalistic, having much the same features as that of a dog, specifically a Rottweiler or bull dog. Unlike a dog, the beast was hairless with skin that seemed to be like a string of rocks held together to form rough scales with broom-like bristles jutting up between them. It snarled revealing rows of yellow teeth within a gapping maw that was overly large and covered in drool. It stomped its large clawed feet in agitation. Those were another oddity when compared to a dog; instead they looked as if they had belonged to a bear.
Flicking his thumb up on the guard of Yamato, Vergil released the sword from the sheath, eager for this new challenge.
The creature gave no further warning as it leapt from its position on the floor near the table toward Vergil. Clearing the railing and the considerable distance in that one leap, Vergil dodged the creature at the last second, flinging Yamato out in an arc that few would have seen let alone guard against.
The creature however had no apparent need to defend itself as Yamato ground across the creature's boulder like hide without leaving so much as a scratch.
Vergil's eyes grew wide in absolute shock; nothing had ever turned Yamato's blade before!
With an angry growl, the odd-looking hound turned and leapt once more for Vergil.
Using his demonic powers now, Vergil disappeared, reappearing where the animal had first appeared. Focusing his energy into Yamato, Vergil stepped back and held his sword back, but the creature was no longer where he had left it. Narrowing his eyes uncertainly, Vergil disregarded the spirit's laughter and swung around as a growl emitted from beside him, unleashing Yamato in a blur of power before the creature could move. Once again though, the creature stood unharmed after the storm of Yamato's slashes had passed it by, not even severing a bristle.
Frustrated, Vergil held Yamato in front of him defensively; nothing and no one had ever before been able to stand before his attacks and remain completely unharmed. Even the King of the Underworld had taken some damage... but this... this was just unheard of!
The beast attacked again and Vergil sidestepped it, using Yamato as a shield as the animal's claws slashed out at him. Deciding that a change in tactics was in order, Vergil looked about quickly for the vase. Perhaps if he had control over the hound's container then like a genie it would return to it when commanded... or so he hoped.
Vergil found the object hanging suspended in the air near the bed. Teleporting there quickly, Vergil reappeared where the vase should have been; instead he found the creature already leaping up at him from the bed.
It seemed as if the beast was somehow able to anticipate his moves, and that the ghost was also privy to the same information, perhaps through the beast that it was controlling. In either case, it quickly became obvious to Vergil that he was losing this battle. He made a final attempt to capture the vase, and found that a full retreat was in order as the infernal creature snatched the end of his coat in its jaws and began shaking its head, tearing through the material.
Growling in frustration, Vergil divested himself of his coat before the creature could inflict actual bodily harm, and immediately dodged as the animal realized its prey was getting away and leapt. Continuing to dodge, deflect and teleport as necessary, Vergil finally made it to the room's exit, and yanked the door open. In order to protect his pride, Vergil paused and snarled out, "This isn't over!" Then he slipped through the open door and slammed it behind himself, just as the creature flung itself against the door.